ARC Review + Giveaway: Walk the Edge by Katie McGarry

“McGarry delivers a very sweet romance for these two.”
~ Under the Covers

In book two of the Thunder Road series by Katie McGarry, seventeen year old Breanna and Reign of Terror MC member, Razor get their happily ever after. Although marketed as a Young Adult novel, I feel like McGarry borrows some themes from the Contemporary Romance genre and utilizes it here. It gives the book a more mature feel to it that I can appreciate.

Breanna is smart and responsible, someone who you don’t really think will be involved with a boy in a motorcycle club. Although I didn’t hate Breanna, I also didn’t connect with her very much. To me, she just didn’t capture my interest as much as Razor did. From the very beginning of the book, I found myself more interested in Razor and his mother than Breanna so whenever the book switched POVs, I noticed that I was interested in one storyline more than the other, creating an imbalance in the story.

However, that is not to say that the romance worked. McGarry delivers a very sweet romance for these two. If you’re a fan of the way bad boy/good girl trope then you’ll enjoy this story. But I can’t help but mention the Reign of Terror before this review is over. The club is very much a motorcycle club but I feel like McGarry has a different twist in it. In fiction you usually see bikers are the bad boys, if a little bit shady and rough around the edges. But McGarry’s, while on the troublesome side, they aren’t dabbling in drugs or prostitution or anything like that. It could be that she’s writing to the YA crowd but they do seem a little more waterdowned than what I am used to. Nevertheless, I am looking forward to Chevy’s book!

 

EXCERPT

Her face is white against her raven hair. Ghost white. I’d bet my left ball she hasn’t breathed since I spoke. Her hand is outstretched toward the busted cell on the ground, but her wide hazel eyes are cemented on me. I turn my head and I’m greeted by the amused faces of my brothers from the Reign of Terror who stand next to their bikes in the parking lot. They’ll be harassing me on this for weeks. Fuck me for trying to be chivalrous.

“You okay?” It’s a variation of the question I asked a few seconds ago, but this one she seems to understand as her body trembles to life.

“Um…” she stutters. We’ve been at the same schools since elementary age, otherwise I’d wonder if she was a foreign exchange student with limited English. “I only have twenty dollars.”

The muscles in the back of my neck tense. “I’m not going to jack you for your money.”

She quits breathing again.

“Nice to know your current bank account status,” I bite. “But I asked you if you were okay.”

Color returns to her cheeks as I pin her with my gaze. She accused me of trying to rob her. I know it, she knows it, and she’s now informed I’m not the asshole in this scenario.

“Yes,” she finally answers. “I’m okay. I mean no…I mean…I broke my phone.”

She did and that sucks for her.

Her eyes flicker between me and the phone like she wants to retrieve it, yet she’s too paralyzed. Saving us from this torture, I swipe the pieces of the cell and lean against the wall.

The distance between us relaxes her and that gulp of air was audible as she tucks herself tight in the corner farthest from me. This reaction isn’t new. I’ve seen it since I was a child whenever my father or anyone from the Terror entered a room full of civilians. To everyone outside of the club, we’re the evil motorcycle gang bent on blowing the house down.

People and their hellish nightmare folklore involving us piss me off. I don’t know why I told the guys to give me a minute. I’m late for plans I made with Chevy and some girls, plus I’m on call in case the board chooses to meet sooner rather than later to discuss Detective Jake Barlow.

But something about how this chick appeared alone and frightened messed me up. It reminded me…The thought stalls and the emotional speed bump causes a flash of pain in my chest. Screw it, her expression reminded me of Mom the last time I saw her—the night she died.

My mom. I shake my head to expel her ghost. One visit from one bastard trying to use me and I’m being haunted by a past I can’t change. That’s what the detective was salivating over—to use me for info on the club. He’s one of too many who believes our club is the devil’s prodigy.

What he doesn’t see is that we’re a family—the type of family that comes when called. Obviously not like this girl’s family.

“Is it yes or no?” It’s damn difficult to shove the battery in now that the frame is bent.

“Yes or no what?” her long black hair sweeps past her shoulders. She has the type of hair that would have to be pulled up if she rode on the back of my bike. Gotta admit, I like her hair, especially how it shines under the lights of the school’s overhang.

“If you’re okay.” I survey the mostly empty area to prove a point. “If we leave, you’ll be alone, and I don’t care of that. There’s some real psychos out there.”

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[about-author author=”Katie McGarry”]

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